


Defective

by shallograves



Series: SoulMatched [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF!Sophia, Biting, Claiming, Eating Disorders, F/M, Hair Pulling, Homophobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Notavirgin!steve, Other, PTSD, Past Rape/Non-con, Rough Sex, Sad times, Sex, Shower Sex, Soulmates, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, Wall Sex, defective, everyone is sad, hydra is a b, kind of sad, not even kidding, semi captain america TWS compliant, sleep issues, soulmatching, you are warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 22:56:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13600188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shallograves/pseuds/shallograves
Summary: Sophia was born defective, its branded across her stomach as if the red splotch on her wrist wasn't enough. Steve was born in a world where defective meant strength, it meant you were alive. The soldier was born owning nothing, he was nothing. Until he saw them in the dream, and he will do anything to have them. Even destroy hydra.





	1. Chapter 1 rewrite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hay so, I was really unimpressed with the first chapter, which had been written during a moment when I had been in writers block. This is the new chapter, with all three of their POV. This story will all be third person, and will range from Steve, Sophia, and James/Soldiers POV. Warning now, this chapter and every chapter after it will focus on dark things. The soldier is very... Set on just having his way with Sophia. And James will not come in until much later. This has dark themes of Dub con, and rape. The rape will NOT be between the three of them, but James and Sophia will both have to struggle with it later on. 
> 
> This will also deal with learning to be Safe, consensual, and sane. Some of this won't be safe, it won't be sane. sometimes it will border on not consensual. 
> 
> This will have a happy ending I promise you.

The world spinned on its axis, tilting, colors swirling as Sophia Finnick let the first coming wash over her. She had heard so much about it, all of her life everyone telling her about something she had been told she would never experience. So was the life of the defective. 

 

But here she was, arching into her bed, sweat beading down her neck. It soaked the sheets, her only set of them, as she keened. No one said it would feel like dying.

 

Sophia Daniella Finnick had been born into an unfair world. Maybe if she had been born with a match, with someone out there, things would have been different. She was intelligent, could hold her own with her father when he went into the deep topics. Her sisters were all of the more, well, airheaded variety. But she had loved them. Even when they had started to pull away from her the older she got, even when they shunned her entirely. 

 

Sophia’s father had been a late bloomer, the stress of his time causing problems with his Soulmatching. He had been at war, a young man with no family. At twenty years old, he had been days away from being labeled defective when, while sleeping in a trench, he had his own coming. 

 

He had seen her mother in a halo of light, met her a year later. They married weeks later, a whirlwind romance that produced the oldest of the Finnick children. Sophia was the second youngest, the fifth child of six. By the time she had been born, her mother had turned cold and her father distant. 

 

By the time Megan had been born, they never spoke to each other. 

 

Soulmatch wasn’t perfect. It didn’t mean you personalities matched. It meant your bodies did. You could create beautiful little children to populate the world while those who didn’t have a match… 

 

They were left to rot like Sophia was. It was the law. If you were defective, you weren’t worth crap. You could be left on the street and no one would look twice. Sophia had been twenty when she had figured out she would never have the dreams, never see her match. 

 

Maybe he had died. 

 

Sophia had been born into a cold world, one that had no place for her. She had been branded, in whatever place the officers who came thought would get the message across. 

 

The brand across her stomach screamed she was worthless. She was unclean. 

 

The red splotch on her wrist made sure everyone knew it. 

 

But this wasn’t supposed to happen. She was twenty six now, way past the age of having the first coming. She had been branded and marked for the past four years. Had been working like a dog while her family ignored her, forgot she was there. She had even heard once they had burned her birth certificate to forget. 

 

She was twenty six, and falling into the abyss of the first coming. 

  
  


The first thing she noticed was she was in the middle of the street. Not any street, the one right outside of her work. She knew how the first coming worked, it was the first glimpse you’d get of your soulmatch. So he was close, she made the mental note. 

 

It was still summer, she could feel the heat curling at the edges of her body, licking at her skin. The sun was lower in the sky, so closer to night time than the middle of the day.

 

The second thing she noticed was the smell. It smelled heavily like gasoline and gunpowder, she remembered the smell from the days with her father in the backwoods. Back when he had taught her to shoot. 

 

_ Remember you can protect yourself.  _

 

It was heavy in the air, someone had been shooting a gun. 

 

The third thing she noticed was she was bleeding. Pain was muted, like she knew it would be, her neck had a knick in it. Nothing bad, but it was bleeding sluggishly. She always bled a lot. 

 

The last thing was that everyone was blurred out, normal for the first coming. Everyone but her match was unimportant. She found him easily. He was standing towards her, eyes so focused and intent that she wanted to take a step back. He was beautiful. Those eyes, his jaw line, the stubble on his face. He looked a lot like a wild animal, his chest heaving with every breath he took. 

 

No, the last thing she noticed was that everyone was blurred out but him and the man standing behind him. 

 

She had never heard of two soulmatches. Never. But the moment she looked at the man who stared at her from over the other mans shoulder, she knew why. 

 

Steve Rogers stared at her, his eyes screaming for her to run. 

  
  


It wasn’t the heat that woke him up, his lungs burning like he had asthma again. 

 

Steve Grant Rogers, for the first time in 70 years, had a asthma attack. Or maybe this was a panic attack, every edge of his body taunt. His mind, which had been working overtime for days since his last mission, now screamed at him. 

 

Wrong wrong wrong. 

 

In the forties, it had been uncommon but two soul matches had been a thing. Sometimes they were two people who knew each other, and shared a common match. Fate, or some fucked up version of it, seemed to draw them together towards one common thing. 

 

Her. 

 

Steve didn’t know who the man was, even as recognition tickled the part of his brain that held his memories. He knew he would have to fight him, he could still feel the force of the metal hand, slamming into his shield. Could still hear that voice, heat curling in the pit of his stomach, arousal. 

 

Wrong to be aroused by someone trying to kill you. 

 

For a second, he thought the universe, in all its fucked up wisdom, had decided to make a male his soulmatch. Not that the world didn’t hate him already, with the words defective stamped across his wrist. That hadn’t gone away with the serum, and he was damn proud of it. 

 

He didn’t need anyone, it was the way Bucky and he had saw it. They both had grinned like loons when they got the brands, and the red splotch. Had bought some whiskey to share, and kissed when the whiskey wasn’t enough of a celebration. 

 

If he closed his eyes, he could still feel Bucky’s lips on his before that mission, could still feel the heat of his skin against his, fighting the blistering cold. 

 

_ Damn nice you run so hot now.  _

 

Steve barely made it to the bathroom, puking into the sink. There was nothing but watery vomit, he hadn’t eaten in a day. He had been fighting with the basic things, but Sam said it was normal. 

 

“You came back man, not whole, but you came back. You need time to relearn to be human, and that is okay.” He mumbled the words to himself, looked at the sticky note with them on the bathroom mirror. 

 

But this wasn’t about his PTSD, Shellshock, whatever Sam deemed it. 

 

This was about the dark angel whose named would be forever etched into his skin, about the man who shared his match. 

 

This was about betraying Bucky. 

  
  


The soldier sat still, there was no need to let the doctors know. He had disobeyed orders before, back when he had first become a machine. When the cold had made him shiver and he had nightmares about the darkness. Now he was the cold, now he was the darkness. 

 

He was the nightmare. 

 

But a machine didn’t have a match. He had asked once, after a mission where he had burned a couple to ashes, listening to the woman scream about her soul. She hadn’t been his mission, but he had burned her in mercy. Put a bullet in her head, he didn’t want to hear her cries. 

 

There were parts of him that didn’t match up. Didn’t fit. The puzzle wasn’t right. He was so many different parts of it that he figured he was a different puzzle altogether. 

 

Some pieces were bright, blond hair, kisses in the alleyways when he felt risky. A hand around his cock, wheezy laughs. Muscles and.. 

 

_ Used to be smaller, taking all the stupid.  _

 

Then there was darkness, blood and tears. Sweat, cold. So so cold, before he became numb to it. It was a girl who tasted like dark dreams, a harsh whisper to her as she keened. Brutal fucks against a stand, men watching as he broke her. Destroyed her, and as she loved every second of it. A name against his lips. 

 

_ Маленькая танцовщица, Наталья _

 

_ Little dancer, natalia.  _

 

The last part of his puzzle was.. Different. It was a girl, lonely. A brand, pain pain pain. It was watching her through the rain, beautiful darkness. It was… Beauty. Different than the dark Natalia. Different from the bright sun that took his breath away. This was sad beauty. 

 

He saw her many times, whenever they brought him out of cryo. Or maybe not everytime. Since the 90’s. He remembers seeing her the first time. 

 

She had been tiny. So tiny, one snap and he would break her. 

 

She had grinned, missing teeth, bright blue eyes. Her hair was a mess, unbrushed. She was dirty, he didn’t like that. He remembers he felt such disgust for the man inside the home who ignored her. It had been the longest he had been awake, the programming was slipping. But this mission was needed. He needed the information. 

 

His handler gave him three weeks out of cryo. And he made a memory of his beautiful little lonely girl. 

 

No matter how many times they wiped him, he clung to that little puzzle piece. 

 

_ My name is Sophia, but momma calls me Daniella.  _

 

“ Asset.” His eyes turn to his handler, a small man. He is useless, he is cowardly. The soldier knows it by how he sweats when he gets to close. He steps closer just to make him sqruim. 

 

“Да.” He kept his cold eyes down just a hair from the mans eyes, he learned that handlers didn’t like it. He learned that decades ago. 

 

“We have a mission for you. Nicholas Fury. You are to kill him in route.” His shaking hand sets down the file, and he leaves. 

 

His handler is smart. He absorbs the file, creates his list of required items. And stands. 

 

He dresses quickly, thinking of her. For a second, he feels the tendrils of excitement. His handlers, this Hydra, they have gotten complacent. He knows this mission will be his last, he knows it in his bones. 

 

He will find the dark angel, take her. She is his, she will mark his skin. For a second, regret fills him. He is.. A monster. He wonders if she sees the darkness, like he does. Wonders if she tastes it like he does. 

 

Wonders if she can take the brutal darkness the same way his little dancer had. His fingers twitch, urging him to bury them inside of her, to curl them in her hair and jerk. His cock swells with arousal, but he tempers it down, even as he keeps thinking of her. 

 

“I will find you, little angel.”


	2. Memories and Venting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Steve and Sophia are sick, both lost in memories of the past. The beginning of winter soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Triggers for eating disorders, past torture and rape (mentioned), and prejudice.

CHAPTER 2

 

Sophia could barely move from the toilet as she puked for the fifth time that morning. There was nothing to come up, nothing splashed down into the bowl. She whimpered as she instinctively flushed, pressing her naked back against the tub. 

 

She had been up for hours now, since her body had forced itself to sleep, to change. She remembered seeing her sister the day after her own coming, bright eyes and happy smile. She had been a little taller, a little more shapely. Her mother had been so proud to buy new clothes for her, even if she had eyed Sophia like a rat when she had gotten home and her other daughter had yet to have the first coming. 

 

That night was the night the officers came, baring the black box and some gauze. 

 

Retching again, she barely got over the bowl before she spit out the bile. Her body burned as she remembered the night they came for her. 

 

_ Father had been avoiding her all day, she knew it was because Megan had gotten the first coming. Just days after turned 17, which was still late but not so bad. Megan had been gloating since she got back, a mean taunting edge to her voice as she described word for word what her match looked like. Sophia had listened, a small smile on her face.  _

 

_ Even then, she had been kind to them. She had listened patiently, and even hummed when it was appropriate. He had sounded so nice, if not plain. Sophia wished for plain, she yearned for it. Anything would be better than to see her mother’s cold looks of disgust, her fathers shame filled eyes when she turned one year older.  _

 

_ Ryan was starting to feel it to. He was two years younger, and had been matched. He sometimes talked about her, the beautiful girl he had been matched with. But he knew the exact year they would meet, so he hadn’t had any issue going into barns with her.  _

 

_ Had no issue touching her.  _

 

_ It wasn’t a taboo thing, it wasn’t like being defected. Sophia new for a fact while she had only one lover, Megan had twenty. Diseases weren’t a thing unless you were defective, no one slept with a defective to spread them to the normal matched folks. So a tumble in the barn was not frowned upon. In fact, her father had been the one to hand her condoms when Ryan had first asked her out, mumbling about being safe.  _

 

_ Getting pregnant from someone not your match was a no no.  _

 

_ She had plans that night, Ryan had been talking for weeks about getting a room to rent to make love to her all night. His match day was coming quickly. He had weeks, if not months, before he would see her. 2012. He had days until the new year. And the barn was to cold to sleep in, let alone make love in.  _

 

_ “ I want to treat you right, Daniella.”  _

 

_ Sophia had been daydreaming when the knock came.  _

 

_ At first, she had thought they were here for Gracie. Grace Finnick was an enforcer, and officer who branded people. And awful job but someone had to do it. And Grace was good at it, kind at it. She was the person people requested when the Defective was.. A broken match. A match who match had died.  _

 

_ She had gone once with her sister, baked bread and pastries. She had held the poor woman’s hand as she had been branded, right across her matches name, which was fading. He had died from Leukemia. He had only been 29.  _

 

_ They hadn’t even met yet, it was the only reason she had to be branded even after the first coming.  _

 

_ She had gone to the funeral when the woman hung herself two weeks later.  _

 

_ “Hay, I don’t think Grace is home yet. “Sophia had been so bright, her face all smiles. She set down a thing of cookies she had made, she was getting very good at it. Everyone loved her baked goods, she was even thinking of making a living off of it.  _

 

_ “Sophia.” It was her mother’s cold tone that made her turn, and freeze.  _

 

_ They had placed the black box next to her plate of cookies. Untouched cookies. Sophia looked up, her eyes already filled with tears as she searched for her sisters face. Her sisters uniform.  _

 

_ “I promise if you are branded, I will do it baby girl.”  _

 

_ Gracie wasn’t there. Instead, it was Nathan Fillmore. She knew she should run. He was different, he was the one she had nightmares about. He was known for doing unspeakable things to the defective. Had been kicked out of New York, out of D.C. for what he did. Some cities had laws against what he did to Defectives.  _

 

_ But not Glenoaks.  _

 

_ Not her small town.  _

 

_ “Momma.” Her voice broke as she looked at her mother, eyes filled with fear. Her mother was sneering, almost smiling at her. She was enjoying this.  _

 

_ Any love she had for her mother disappeared as the woman waved her hand.  _

 

_ “Defective trash, you are no child of mine. Brand her. “ She snarled.  _

 

_ Sophia had heard the horror stories but she had never been subjected to it. Even when the rumors of her being defective had started, she hadn’t been touched. Some men took girls out to the woods, hurt them for being unmatched. Some men killed them, before the brand.  _

 

_ As Nathan took a step into the room, reaching for the box to open it. As the men started the first and Nathan grinned, unbuckling his pants, Sophia wish for something she had never wished for before.  _

 

_ Sophia wished for death.  _

 

_ In the early morning of the next day, as she laid on the table, broken, her sister had finally come home. Her sweet sweet sister, Gracie. She had screamed, her hand slapped over her mouth as she saw what had been done to her favorite sister. Her matched, Dominic, had rushed in and puked on the floor as he took her in.  _

 

_ She had been left for six hours to die, slowly. Her things had been cleared from her room during that time, most of it destroyed by Megan, or by her mother. She learned later on, after she had been transported away, that Gracie had been on a date. One paid for by their mother.  _

 

_ Gracie moved out two days after, Dominic and her cutting ties with their family. She had worked a deal with someone in D.C. to get her a place to stay. Had bought her some clothes and enough food to last her weeks. Dominic had helped her heal, even if he didn’t have his PHD yet.  _

 

_ It was eight weeks later when the aliens attacked New York. Eight weeks later when she had gone out, red splotch on her wrist, and helped clean up.  _

 

_ Gracie stopped being an enforcer, instead going to school to protect people like her. Dominic opened a practice a year after she had been branded, a place for the branded to come for cheap to be fixed up. They had never had the chance to dream before, of a better world.  _

 

_ But New York changed everything.  _

 

It took her sixteen minutes to get dressed, her scarring acting up as she dressed. The brand wasn’t the only thing on her body, her whole side was a mess of burn scars, her back much worse. She barely looked in the mirror, pulling on her work out gear. She braided her hair, long enough to touch the back of her thighs. It was something she prided herself on, her beautiful pitch black locks. 

 

She hadn’t cut her hair in 4 years. Not since Nathan, not since the branding. 

 

“She rises!” Alice chirped, curled into her seat at the table. Matron, the woman who owned the hostice they stayed in, smiled at her like she did every morning. Holding out her old hand, she wiggled her fingers at Sophia, smiling wider when she put the rent for the week in her withered hand. 

 

“There is oatmeal.” She croaked, pointing to the huge pot. Sophia hated oatmeal, but it filled her back up as she forced it down. She willed her body to keep down, even if she had spent hours puking it up. 

 

“Thank you Matron.” Sophia tried to not wince at the sound of her voice, completely wrecked and broken. Not like either of the woman noticed, Alice droning on about work. 

 

Sophia had three jobs, all three set up by either Matron or Gracie. In the mornings, they drove to each of the homes they had been tasked with keep immaculate. Which was easy, each belonged to senators, and they rarely stayed home. The second was a fitness bar, a place that Gracie had found weeks after getting to D.C. 

 

The last was a bar, a scummy hole in the wall that Matron had sent girls to frequently. Or she had. The girls before Sophia had quit after weeks, except for herself. She had been working there for two years, and made more money there than at both of her other jobs. 

 

Men liked her smokey eyes, her long hair. They loved her lips. She taunted and teased, she flirted, but never touched. If they touched her, she couldn’t breathe. She would freak out and then they would be bounced. 

 

Trevor was the bar owner, and usually took pleasure in kicking their asses if they got handsy. He sent them to the hospital if they mentioned defective. 

 

Trevor was defective, or he had been branded. He had a sweet Match, a girl who was 18 years younger and more of a daughter than a match. She was married to another man, Trevor had walked her down the aisle. 

 

“Senator Stern called, asked us to do his house tomorrow. He is hosting some party tonight and doesn’t want us around while they set up. “Alice whined, pushing her oats against the edge of her bowl. She loved trying on the dresses that Senator Stern kept inside the mansion he called a house. 

 

Senator Stern didn’t have a wife, his match long since dead. He liked watching Alice, bought her nice things to try on. 

 

Sophia stayed to the oposite side of the home when they finally stopped flirting. 

 

“I don’t know how you put up with him.” The monotone flatness of her voice made her flinch, her hatred for the man was something legendary. Something about him rubbed her wrong. 

 

And rubbed Alice right. 

 

“He has money.” She shrugged, standing up to pour the rest of the oats into the pot. They didn’t waste food, even if it made Sophia’s stomach turn to even think of eating the same things Alice or even Deborah had touch. 

 

No one knew what diseases Deborah had, working nights on the corner. 

 

“And a lack of personality.” She made a show of choking down three bites before she poured hers back into the pot. Matron snorted at her comment, before she poured hers back in and then set the pot in the fridge. 

 

“He doesn’t need a personality. He’s got a cock and money, I don’t need him to have a personality to make him happy.” Alice winked at her, going to get dressed in something other than the tank top and shorts. 

 

~

 

“On your left.” Steve huffed out, almost laughing as he passed Sam again. He could hear him groan, even as he lapped around the water, running almost a half of what he could. He just wanted to irriate Sam, not exhaust himself. 

 

Not that he wasn’t exhausted. Steve hadn’t been able to sleep after the fall, hadn’t been able to stomach anything either. Other than the protein shake, something Tony had made him when he had let the genuis know about… about his lack of appietie and the need for the calories. 

 

It tasted like shit but let him keep going. 

 

“Dont you say it!” Sam yelled when he got close to passing him again, not even five minutes later. He grinned, smug, as he mumbled it. He could hear Sam slowing down, cursing his back out as the therapist finally gave up. 

 

He did another lap before going to find Sam, throwing a water bottle to him. 

 

“Your a little shit, you know that Rogers?” Sam opened the bottle and chugged half of it down, his chapped lips wet when he pulled the bottle away. “I can’t believe they call you America’s sweetheart. If they only knew what a little fucking ass you are.” 

 

Steve snorted, but sat down next to him, barely breathing hard. 

 

“Sorry.” That made Sam stop, looking at his friend as he took in the tired bags and… Crap, he had gotten skinnier. 

 

“Whens the last time you ate?” He forced the bottle into his hands, and steve drank. It hit his empty stomach and made him wince, which gave Sam all the information he needed. It had been days, maybe a week since his friend had a real meal. “Shit man, why didn’t you tell me it got this bad?” 

 

Steve shrugged, biting his lip as he felt Sam’s eyes on him. Waiting for an answer that wouldn’t come. 

 

_ Sorry Sam, I just had the first coming, of not one but two people. Not to mention I was in a gay relationship with my best friend, who died.  _

 

He didn’t need to say a word about the last part, Sam knew already. 

 

“Is it him or something else?” Steve winced at Sam’s tone, the therapist coming out in full force. Months ago, when he had first became friends with the man, he hadn’t been... receptive to the tone. He had even threatened to hurt Sam once, during his worst days. But now.. 

 

He was a bleeding heart to the tone. Not even Natasha could wiggle information from him like Sam could. 

 

“I… I didn’t.. Fuck man, I had it. The first one.” He snorted when he heard Sam’s sharp intake. Steve was 25 going 95. He was way past the date of expiration for a match. 

 

“Dude.” Sam didn’t know what to say, but instead let Steve get it all out. Once he had started,it was easy to talk to Sam. 

 

“Its not like she’s not a good looking gal. Fuck Sam, she was like an angel. I saw her, and I just… I wanted to go to her and kiss her. Those lips, she has lips Bu.. Bucky would die to kiss.” His voice broke, wavering. “ She’s so tiny. Like maybe 5’4. God, compared to me she would be so small.” 

 

Sam laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. 

 

“I don’t even know her name, I don’t want it. Sam I had made my peace. Back in the thirties, when me and Bucky went to get branded, we went even knowing there was a chance we were just late bloomers. We didn’t want the marks, didn’t want this.”He felt a tear slip down his face, before he swiped at it angrily. “I don’t want her. Sam. I don’t fucking want her, but fuck do I.” 

 

Sam understood, he had felt the same way with the woman on his skin, a woman he could never have. He had met her already, but she had stared at him blankly and told him she would never be his match. 

 

Natasha Romanov had been defective before he had even been born. 

 

“I got you man, this is a change. And not a good one, not right now. Things are starting to come back to normal and boom. Here she is.” Steve nodded, frantically. God, Sam got him, in a way only Bucky had before. He didn’t even had to say a word. 

 

“But… Steve, this girl, she has the right for a chance.” Steve let his head drop as he nodded along. Yeah she did. She probably had no clue, what she was getting into. He could only hope the name, her mark on him, wouldn’t show up some place visible. He had seen men with their matches name on their neck, the back and side. Never on the face. 

 

“She looked older.” Steve admits, finally calming down, which makes Sam sigh. He knew how harsh the system was, seen so many people victims to an unfair world. 

 

“She’s probably been branded then. This just happen last night?” Steve nodded, ignoring the first pulse of his phone which he had shoved in his shorts that morning. He opened his mouth again when the screech of a car made him look up. Natasha stared at him from over her sunglasses, a flat look on her face. 

 

“Hay anyone know the way to the smithsonian? I’m here to pick up a fossil.” She smiled when he gave her a small look before getting up. He winced as his stomach grumbled, finally feeling hungry now that he had vented. Sam just shook his head and leaned over to speak to Natasha. 

 

“Get him something to eat.” The tone of his voice stopped anything Natasha would have said, her head tilting in a slight nod as she took a look at her friend. He was getting to skinny, he needed food. 

 

“Got it. Get in Cap.” She fished in her bag for the file, handing it to him as he slipped into the passenger seat. He didn’t say a word as he absorbed the file in his hands, thanking the powers that were when she stopped to get him two whole meals. 

 

He ate them before they had fit the tarmac. 


	3. A soldier and a mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is sent out on a mission, and Sam meets the girls. The soldier is sent to kill fury.

CHAPTER 3

 

The soldier sat frustrated as the men moved around him, watching them go out of their ways to avoid being within arms reach. Even strapped to the seat like he was, he was still a threat. He felt the urge to smile, to bare his teeth and grin at their fear. It filled him up, sweet on the air. 

 

They had woken him up days ago, getting things ready as he sat and waiting. For the first time, ever, they had given him a bed. Let him sleep, which had made him only that more certain this would be his last mission. Hydra could not hold him if they let him become human,less machine. 

 

He would enjoy ripping the face off of his handler. 

The only thing that had kept him silent was the dream he had. He dreamt of his little angel, remembering her beautiful innocence, a bandage over the festering wound. Her cookies, baked in something she had called an easy bake oven, which had tasted disgusting. She had laughed, when he had made a face, nodding. 

 

_ I can make better cookies with Momma’s oven. But I don’t think I can use that one yet. _

 

The soldier, the machine, didn’t have regrets. He wasn’t programmed with them, allowed to feel them. But he knew this was close to it, the emotion. He didn’t know what her cookies tasted like, he wished to try them. 

 

A machine didn’t wish, which hardened his resolve on leaving. 

 

One last mission, and he would find the little angel. He would find the dark woman, would break her. Mold her, like he had his ballerina. He remembered something in her eyes, a hardness that hadn’t even been present in his Natalie. He knew she would make a good match, knew she would be his. 

 

“Asset.” His handler squeaked when he turned his head to look at the man, sweating pig of a man. He was shaking, looking to where the newest head of Hydra was standing. “Mission.” 

 

“Kill Nicholas Fury, primary objective one. Find flash drive, primary objective two. Collateral damage acceptable.” He looked to Pierce before he flashed his handler an almost annoyed look. 

 

He wanted to hunt. His fingers itched to pull a trigger, to wrap around a throat. To bury themselves in her long beautiful hair, force her head to his. He could almost feel her lips against his, harsh breath as she sobbed in pleasure. 

 

“He’s ready.” His handler turned to the head of Hydra who nodded. He looked smug, the soldier would take pleasure in ripping it from his face. 

  
  


“What the hell is going on?” Alice watched as yet another police vehicle passed them, rushing to some accident or another. There was a sound like a car backfiring, which Sophia knew for a fact was gun shot. 

 

She had been hunting with her dad when she had been young, before the brand. Her eyes kept track of the cars, even as Alice pulled her own attention from the wheel to her phone. 

 

“Son of a bitch. Stern canceled, so has Madel. Those were the only two houses for today.” She slammed her hand hard onto the steering wheel, turning the car to the next street. “Want to be dropped off at work?”

 

Sophia nodded, figuring she would get some coffee and wait. Coffee was free, as was water. Caffeine had become an addiction, a vice that she held onto tightly. Watching the cars around them stop and go, she closed her eyes for just a second. 

 

By the time she opened them again, they were there. 

  
  


Work moved by slowly, sluggish hours of people coming and going. Some avoided her as she warmed up clients, some even gave her a dirty look or two. But anyone who went there knew never to say anything, or Douglas, the owner, would kick them out. He didn’t like Defectives but he was Gracies friend, he loved her sister. He would do anything so long as Gracie batted her eyelashes and said please. 

 

Dominic found it hilarious. 

 

“Did you hear about the accident? People are saying it was a car explosion, some guy was in the car.” Alice was pale as she pulled from the parking lot, pick Sophia up after both of their shifts. She normally made Sophia walk, but a message from Douglas and she had come, her friend paler than normal. 

 

All Sophia could think about was him. 

 

A look to Alice, and she knew the woman wouldn’t believe her if she told her. Alice had been through a lot, especially for a defective, things she didn’t talk about. Women had it worse than the guys, men just shoved into the military until they out lived their usefulness. Then they were sent home, to work labor jobs until they died. 

 

Never knowing love, or getting married. Something Alice dreamed about, even as broken as she was. 

 

Unlike with Sophia, Alice had been in a big city, where the laws were stricter for the abuse of defectives. They rarely found a case like the brown haired girls, but for every easy case there was ones like Alice’s. They had found her barely breathing, with the brand marked in three different places. She had been tortured, and had been sent to the Matrons just weeks before Sophia. 

 

They had healed together, but some wounds didn’t heal the same way. 

 

Alice still found the positive, still found the beauty. She had been on the streets before that night, had lived on the edge of a knife. Sophia had so much more to lose when she lost it, but Alice had nothing. She became a loose canon, a wild card. 

 

She didn’t let her brand make her anything different.

 

Sophia had lost all hope when she had been branded. Even now, with the glimmer there, with the knowledge that somewhere out there, two men were hers…

 

She still felt numb. 

 

“So I met this guy, he came in for a new phone. Dropped his running with a friend. “ Alice always seemed to attract guys, even ones who hated the defective. She was gorgeous, any guy melted at her feet. “He was matched but unattached. Got his number. “ 

 

Sophia rolled her eyes, watching as they pulled into the Matron’s parking lot. Alice kept going, talking about her soldier. He had been a pararescue. A vet, which meant he was her type, military. She grinned as she parked the car, turning to gush. 

 

“He asked me out tonight, I asked if you could come with. “ Sophia felt the shock before she huffed. It was once in a blue moon when she was invited with Alice, but she nodded anyway. The buddy system never failed them, and the Matron begged them to keep to it when they went out on dates. 

 

“Gonna take both of us to some nice restaurant. Means we gotta cover the marks but I figured we’d wear those dresses we picked up from Nicolette.” Sophia knew what dresses she talked about, praying for a moment for the man. Sophia knew she looked good in it, but Alice…

 

She never failed to get laid when she wore the skin tight off the shoulder long sleeved dress. Most men didn’t even both taking it off her. 

 

“You trying to give him a heart attack.” Sophia snorted, her friend smiling widely at the joke. She rarely made jokes, or even smiled. 

 

“Yes I am. Now come on, we got enough time to get ready before he’s coming to pick us up.” Sophia raised an eyebrow at that and Alice nodded, an excited look on her face. “I know! He’s a gentleman.” 

  
  


And Sam was. 

 

Sophia laughed, actually laughed, when he regaled them on how his friend seemed to think it was funny to run circles around him. She could see the frustration on his face but knew it was all fun and games. He had love in his eyes for him, and it was one of the things that made her relax. 

 

He explained he worked with Vets now, helping them get used to being back. Even with defects. He explained his friend was, or well thought he was. He shook his head as he sighed, an arm around Alice’s chair. 

 

“He had the first coming. He freaked out because well.. He is way past the age of having one. I know it happens but he.. He lost someone close to him, and they had been voluntary defects together.” Sophia had gasped, Alice paling. No one did that anymore, not when it meant being drafted. He must have been close to his friend, her eyes filling with tears. 

 

She wished she had been close to someone like that, not even Ryan would have gone Defective for her. 

 

“He is still enlisted, so he had to go back on a mission but man.. He was beat up about it. I think… I think this will be good for him though. He needs this girl to center him, help him recover. He said she is most likely a defect to.” Sophia felt her heart stop as she tilted her head. Now that was rare. 

 

“Poor baby. Well, when he gets back he can come out with us.” Alice cooed, leaning into Sam’s side. He seemed to freeze before he leaned in to kiss her hair. It made her choke up, seeing how gentle Sam treated her. He hadn’t even eyed her chest once. 

 

“I’m sure Steve will appreciate it.”

 


End file.
